Harry Potter and the Final Stand
by DarthMittens
Summary: AU. No Magic. This is the story of Harry's seventh year at Hogwarts Academy, where he's preparing to finally kill the crime lord known as Voldemort. Not part of a series. Full summary inside. HH
1. The Beginning of the End

**A/N: Full Summary: Au. No magic. Timeline moved forward ten years (takes place in 2007). Somewhat dark. Harry Potter is just a boy whose parents were murdered when he was one year old by the ruthless killer Voldemort. After being recruited by an old secret service agent named Dumbledore at age 11, he was admitted to the finest school of military tactics and soldiering for 11-17 year olds. Now, at age 17, he believes he is ready to pay back the man that sowed his fate when Harry was just one year old. And how is he going to do it? Why, with a shotgun blast to the face of course.**

**Warnings: Crude language. Character death. Very descriptive blood, guts, and gore. If you are easily grossed out by blood and/or wounds, this story is not for you. **

**Disclaimer: If Harry Potter was mine, he would've ended up with Hermione. Enough said.**

**Harry Potter and the Final Stand**

**Chapter 1 – The Beginning of the End**

Harry Potter was sitting at his desk, staring out of his window on a dreary July night. Rain pattered a steady rhythm on the glass and the sky roared as streaks of lightning tore through it. Each flash illuminated the street, which was empty but for Harry's neighbor's cars. Harry's car was down there, too. A Ferrari 599 GTB Fiorano, to be exact. An expensive car for anybody let alone a 17-year-old. A 17-year-old who hadn't even applied for one job in his entire life. He remembered how he had got the money needed to purchase his sports car. He and a friend had robbed a bank without the bank even knowing it at the time. When you're a minor without a guardian, you had to do whatever it took to stay alive—or in Harry's case, purchase luxury items. Harry sighed as he glanced at the clock, which read 1:10 A.M.

He had been 17 for an hour and ten minutes already, yet he didn't feel the tiniest bit of joy. Another year had gone by without the criminal lord of all of Great Britain, Voldemort, being caught. Voldemort, the man who had killed his parents and countless others, was still at large. The man had also tried to kill Harry—more than once, in fact—and Harry still had yet to repay the favor.

Harry's parents were members of the same group that Harry was in now: The Order of the Phoenix. His parents had killed Voldemort's favorite lieutenant, Rodolphus Lestrange, and Voldemort had wanted revenge. Voldemort himself had led the raid on Harry's house on Halloween night 1991, bringing his best Death Eaters with him to wipe out the Potters. James took out two before being overwhelmed by sheer numbers and Lily had covered the stairs and took out 8 before a lobbed grenade had ended her life. Lily had been somewhat of a genius, and her son was wearing the new bulletproof vest that she had invented. And the bulletproof vest had done its job: Harry had only been knocked out by a point blank shotgun blast to the chest. Voldemort had assumed the baby was dead when it had stopped crying—a mistake that was the worst he ever made.

Harry Potter was now the leader of his squad, Elite Squad. As the name suggested, it was made up of the best of the best from Hogwarts Academy. The full name of the school was Hogwarts Academy of Assassination and Warfare, but for security reasons it was known as Hogwarts Academy to the public and enrollment could occur through invitation only. Dumbledore himself had rescued Harry from the streets, as his only known relatives, the Dursleys, had moved away several years before Harry was born. So Harry was taught how to kill, gather intelligence, and use almost every weapon known to man. To make a profit to buy weapons and vehicles and other necessaries, Hogwarts contracted their students to perform jobs for clients—real-life experience.

At the end of his first year, Harry was performing an intelligence-gathering job, which was standard for an eleven-year-old, when the microphone under his shirt had experienced feedback. Unfortunately for Harry, one of the men he was speaking to and gathering intelligence from was a member of Voldemort's notorious gang: the Death Eaters. Harry had had to whip out the thick chain concealed in his sweater pocket and knock them out before fleeing.

In his second year, Harry infiltrated the pub known as the Chamber of Secrets, where one of Voldemort's lackeys, a man who Harry only knew as Avery, had taken a girl hostage. The Chamber of Secrets was in Hogsmeade Village, which was a mile from Hogwarts (not that the Death Eaters knew that), and nobody knew that Ginny Weasley, the girl who had been taken hostage and the sister of Harry's best friend, Ron Weasley, but Harry and Ron. The faculty had holed themselves in the faculty room and had been debating what to do all day when Harry and Ron knocked on the door. Professor McGonagall what not listen to what they had to say and told them to leave, so Harry and Ron had gone down to the Chamber of Secrets by their selves. That was the first time Harry had killed a man. Ron had chickened out and pissed his pants, but Harry stayed strong and blown Avery's head off with a Magnum .357 caliber, Harry's favorite gun.

And so the pattern continued. Third year marked the rescue of Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, from Azkaban prison. In his fourth year, Harry had competed in the Assassination Games, a brutal tournament that tested the bravery and adaptability of the contestants. Voldemort had somehow discovered where the third event was taking place and had killed one contestant, Cedric Diggory. Harry himself had barely escaped with his life.

Harry's fifth year was his worst. He had received a ransom letter from Voldemort stating that he had captured Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, and would let Sirius go if Harry would trade his life for his godfather's. Harry made the mistake of telling Headmaster Dumbledore, who led the Order of the Phoenix to the government building that the hostage situation was taking place. Voldemort did indeed have Sirius, and killed him as soon as he saw the Order converging on the building.

Harry's sixth year was pretty uneventful, minus the failed assassination attempt on Dumbledore's life. Dumbledore had been mysteriously absent all year, going on recon jobs. All of the students and faculty knew that if Dumbledore was doing recon then the situation had to be pretty serious. He had been hospitalized after being shot in the leg—he had rolled on the ground to avoid the fire coming his way, and the bullet meant for his midsection had obliterated his shin-bone.

So here Harry was now, at number 12 Grimmauld Place, watching the sky empty itself on the world below while he cleaned his Magnum. It was a comfort thing, and Harry often did it while thinking. Tonight he was thinking about how he would kill Voldemort by the end of this year or die trying. No matter what, Voldemort's reign of terror would be over within 11 months. A particularly loud peal of thunder caused Harry to drop his gun on his desk, and he took a second to swear before picking it up and examining the surface for scratches.

"Harry?" asked the room's other occupant blearily.

Harry turned around and smiled at the young woman he was renting the single-room apartment with. His partner in crime, literally—she was the one who had helped him rob the bank—Hermione Granger was Harry's best friend and the woman he was secretly in love with. She was the Elite Squad's sniper, which was impressive considering the fact that she hadn't started at Hogwarts until fourth year. She was also the top of every class, and was even smarter than Lily Potter had been. The day he met her was the first day of his life—how could his previous existence be called living without this feisty brunette in it?

_***Flashback***_

_13-year-old Harry Potter crept inside the gun store at 2:45 in the morning. Dumbledore had told him that he needed protection this summer—he needed a gun for his own. Unfortunately, Sirius Black was a prison escapee and Harry was a minor, so the only possibility was to gain possession of a firearm illegally. Harry grabbed a Magnum .357, the first gun he had learned how to fire at Hogwarts, grabbed some ammunition, and made a dash for the exit. He barreled down an aisle turned the corner, and ran straight into somebody and fell to the floor. Fearing it was the police, Harry automatically raised the gun towards knee height in order to incapacitate the officer, but a high-pitched voice cried, "Don't shoot!"_

_Harry looked up to see a girl his age getting up. All of Harry's thoughts and worries fled his mind as he beheld the beauty in front of him. She was the same height as Harry and had a mane of bushy brown hair. But what really caught Harry's eye was the keen spark of intelligence in the girl's own wide eyes. "Please, I won't tell anybody!" she said, trembling from head to toe._

_Harry pointed the gun down and said, "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. What are you doing here?"_

_The girl, now with the knowledge that she wasn't going to be shot, huffed, "Well, if you must know, I'm stealing a gun."_

_Harry had to suppress a snort. "Do you even know how to use one?"_

_The girl bit her lip. "Well…no, but it can't be too hard, can it? Just point and pull the trigger," she said matter-of-factly._

"_In theory, that is true, but it really is much harder than it looks. You'll probably end up hurting yourself," Harry said sincerely. "Why do you want a gun, anyway?"_

"_My parents were killed by a gang a few months ago and I want protection and vengeance," she said. "Why do you want a gun?"_

_Harry sighed and quickly said, "Same thing, but my parents were killed when I was one. But we really don't have time for this, the police—"_

_A blaring siren cut Harry off and the girl shrieked. Harry grabbed her hand and pulled her with him to the back of the store, where he shot the window, pulled off his shirt, and used it to clear the glass out of the frame. The girl jumped out of the window and Harry followed suit, moving quickly away from the sounds of the police searching the aisles of the store. There was no breath to waste for talking and they were just hopping over a fence when a gunshot split the night air. The girl cried out and fell from where she was about to hop down from the top, and when Harry rolled her over, she was clutching her right hip and her face was twisted in a grimace of pain. Harry quickly scooped her up—he couldn't just leave her—and continued running as the girl passed out from pain in his arms._

_***End Flashback***_

"I'm fine, Hermione. Just cleaning my gun," he said as if that explained everything (which it did—they knew each other too well).

Hermione sat up and rubbed her eyes as she softly said, "Come on, Harry. Back to bed. We have a big day tomorrow." She glanced at the clock and a hint of a smile crossed her face. "Or should I say later today. Happy birthday."

Harry smiled for the first time and crawled into his twin bed, laying on his side and facing Hermione, who was on the other side of the bedroom. They laid in silence for a while, both just looking at each other with small smiles on their faces. Tomorrow they would be going on a road trip up the coast in Hermione's truck, a Ford F-250. A whole month of rest and relaxation with just the two of them. They slowly drifted off to the comforting world of sleep, snuggled up to ward off the trials and suffering that they did not know were to come.

**A/N: So, I know it was just a background info chapter, but please let me know what you think in a review! I love them so much!**

**(And expect the next chapter to pick the story and action up a little!)**


	2. Stain the Sand Red

**A/N: Here is Chapter 2, please enjoy!**

**Warnings: Crude language. Character death. Very descriptive blood, guts, and gore. If you are easily grossed out by blood and/or wounds, this story is not for you.**

**Chapter 2 - Stain the Sand Red**

"Did you lock the door?" asked Hermione as she started up her truck.

"Of course," said Harry, rolling his eyes. "I also made sure the oven was off and all of the windows were closed, the beds were made, the dishes were clean, and the TV was dusted. Happy?"

Hermione arched one eyebrow at the windshield as she pulled onto the street. "Of course I am. You did everything I asked of you plus a little extra," she stated, choosing to ignore Harry's sarcasm.

A small smile pulled at Harry's lips and he reclined the back of his seat a little to get more comfortable. They were going on a two week road trip and would be staying at various hotels and cottages throughout. Hermione had protested the idea originally due to the fact that such a trip would interfere with studies, but she never could deny Harry of anything. He was too happy and fun to say no to.

Hermione glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and smiled. He was such a teenage boy. He had just popped open a can of Pringles and was munching away. And although he didn't eat quite as much as Ron Weasley, her other friend, he ate more in one hour than Hermione did in a whole day. Hermione turned on the radio and they rocked out as they drove south towards Brighton.

Some time and a gas and food stop later, they were pulling up to a beach just outside of Brighton. It was almost sunset, and the sun lit up the rippling water with a million tiny flecks of gold. This was the first time either of them had been to the beach, and they were awed at how much water there was. It was an infinite pool of turquoise that seemed to drop off at the edge of the world, and both Harry and Hermione sat staring for a few minutes before getting out of the truck. Harry pulled out a picnic basket, and they both sat on the hood of the truck with the basket between them.

They munched on Turkey sandwiches with mustard as they admired the beauty of the ocean before them, and it wasn't until they were finished that Hermione broke the silence with a whisper, as if she might disrupt the flow off serenity rolling in from the sea. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is," said Harry just as quietly.

"This was a great idea, Harry. I'm glad I finally acquiesced."

"Me too. Because...well, I wouldn't want to be here at this moment with anyone else," said Harry. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks following his semi-bold statement, and laid down against the windshield in an effort to hide it.

Hermione did the same and turned her head to smile at him. "Me neither, Harry." There were a couple moments of silence, then Hermione said, "I don't think Ginny would mind being alone here with you either," with laughter evident in her voice.

Harry chuckled. "She does seem quite entranced by me."

"And how do you feel about her?" inquired Hermione.

Harry swallowed convulsively as his stomach churned. A radical thought had just crossed his mind. Maybe, just maybe, it might be the right time to tell Hermione how he felt. They were in a pretty romantic setting here, with the setting sun painting the sky beautiful shades of pink and red, just the two of them there like they were the only people in the world. Yes, now was a great time. "Well...the truth is, I kind of like somebody else."

"Oh?" said Hermione. "Who is it? Do I know her?"

"Yes, you do," said Harry, glad to let Hermione steer this conversation rather than telling her right out.

After a few seconds of silence, Hermione asked, "Well, who is it? I won't tell anyone," she said, smirking.

"Come on, Hermione. You're smart, try and work it out," Harry said in a much calmer voice than he expected to come out.

"Alright. Um...is she in our year?" she asked.

"Yes," said Harry simply.

"What color is her hair?"

"Brown," Harry said, the butterflies in his stomach seemingly going mad.

"Is it Lavender?" Hermione asked, her brow furrowed.

Harry actually laughed at that one. "Lavender? You think I like that...that...bimbo?" He said, unable to think of a better word to describe her.

"So, you like them smarter," Hermione accurately inferred. She thought for a second, then asked hesitantly, "Just making sure here, but...are you...interested in women?"

Harry choked on air and sat bolt upright. That wasn't exactly how he saw the conversation happening in his head. W-what? Yeah, I'm straight."

"Just making sure," said Hermione, a little wide-eyed. "Because I would have no problem with it if you were, you know."

"Hermione, I'm glad you would be okay with it, but seriously, I like women." Harry sighed. "You know what, I'll just tell you. The truth is, I like-"

A gunshot and breaking glass shattered the peacefulness evening silence. Harry and Hermione swore and jumped off the hood as another gunshot was fired at them. The first bullet had got the rear window, the glass littering the back seats. There were four black cars with Death Eaters firing out of the windows driving at them.

Harry and Hermione jumped in the car, Hermione behind the wheel again, and they sped east, the truck's tires spraying sand behind them. The pursuing cars were all Mercedes, and they were gaining on the duo. Harry climbed into the back seat, grabbed a QBZ-95 Assault Rifle with attached underbarrel grenade launcher, one of the few guns they took on the trip, and climbed into the bed, army crawling to the edge.

The Death Eaters were within ten feet of the back of the truck now, their gunfire punching holes in Hermione's truck. Harry fired a grenade and one car exploded in a ball of fire, the heat slamming Harry's face. He loaded up the only other grenade he had and took aim again. But the Death Eaters were now swerving as they approached, looking like big snakes weaving left and right, making it hard to judge where to fire. Harry finally squeezed the trigger and the grenade whipped past one of the cars and blew a column of sand towards the sky. "Shit," said Harry as he detached the grenade launcher. He felt a bullet tease the end of his ebony locks, and he quickly aimed at the nearest car, which was pulling level with the back of the truck, and squeezed the trigger. His bullets punched through the windshield and slammed into the driver's face, causing the car to swerve more violently and drive right into the ocean, the tide attempting to pull the vehicle and its occupants into the ocean's crushing depths.

As Harry reloaded his weapon, a grenade thunked the bed in front of him, tossed out of the window of one of the cars. They were on either side of the bed of the truck, their front windows even with Harry. Harry grabbed the explosive and hurled it as hard as he could at the car with the passenger's side facing him, and it hit the passenger's face just as it exploded. Harry ducked as superheated shrapnel streaked through the air, and the truck jerked as a piece pierced the rear right tire. Hermione slammed on the breaks to prevent the truck from flipping, and Harry slid in the bed and slammed into the truck.

The remaining car stopped ten feet in front of the truck and four Death Eaters hopped out, guns gleaming menacingly in the dying sunlight. Hermione climbed into the bed with Harry, a sawed-off 12-gauge shotgun in her small but sure hands. They nodded at each other, all of their battles fought side by side giving them the intuition to know what the other was thinking, and they leaned out of opposite sides of the bed, guns aiming at the four remaining Death Eaters that disrupted their romantic evening.

Harry lined up his sights at the chest of one Death Eater and squeezed the trigger, the burst of bullets slamming into the man's chest and killing him instantly, his destroyed corpse falling to the ground and his blood soaking the sand.

Another Death Eater had ran up and was using the hood of Hermione's truck as cover. This didn't work well, for as soon as he peeked over it, Hermione had blown his head into a fine mist before he could even pull his pistol up.

Hermione tossed a grenade over the top of the truck and towards a Death Eater, and when it exploded, all that was left of the unfortunate man was a spray of red around where he had been standing.

The last Death Eater threw his gun towards the truck and cried, "I surrender! Please don't kill me!"

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and nodded again, and Harry called out, "Any sudden moves and you're dead!"

"Okay, okay!"

The man was standing out in the open, arms above his head, and Harry and Hermione got out of the bed of the truck and slowly walked toward him, guns not wavering one bit. Harry grabbed a set of throwaway handcuffs that he and Hermione kept in their cars at all times for situations such as these, and Harry cuffed the man as Hermione pulled out her cell phone, stepping away a few feet so the Death Eater couldn't hear what she was saying.

Harry was behind the Death Eater holding the cuffs, and he grimaced as the sharp smell of piss and shit and death assaulted his nostrils, some of the first two coming from the man in front of him. "You're really scared, aren't you," Harry said menacingly.

"Yes. Oh please, God, don't kill me!" he cried hysterically. "Please!"

"Just answer a few questions and we'll leave you to the authorities instead of...taking care of you ourselves," he growled. Truthfully, he wouldn't and couldn't kill an unarmed and handcuffed man; that just crossed a moral boundary, but the man didn't know that.

"Okay, okay. Just please let me live. I'll tell you anything," the man said, his voice shaking.

"How did you know me and Hermione were here?" He asked with a rough voice.

"My Lord has a spy...in your group of friends. One of them knew you were going on a trip." The man was sweating bullets.

"Who? Who's the spy?" Harry demanded. That really wasn't good if it was true. How could one of his friends be a spy? They were a pretty small group of friends, with only about seven or eight that Harry and Hermione told about this trip.

"I don't know. My Lord would never tell us something like that for obvious reasons."

"Dammit," said Harry. "Why does Voldemort want us dead so badly?"

"You two...you're the best of the best," explained the man, swallowing convulsively. "The poster children for the rebels. Natural leaders."

Harry sighed and clubbed the man with the butt of his gun, knocking him out. Knocked out prisoners were so much easier to deal with.

Hermione walked back up to Harry, closing her cell phone and stowing it in her pocket. "Dumbledore's sending a couple of the Order that are staked out near here. They'll be here in an hour." She smiled. "Nice shooting, by the way."

"You too, and nice driving." They watched the sun disappear below the horizon, and Harry sighed. "There goes the end of our vacation."

Hermione wrapped her arms around Harry, and Harry returned the gesture. "Who needs a vacation? Personally, I find a good fight a better stress reliever than any road trip."

Harry laughed and hugged Hermione tighter, and they laid down side by side, admiring the vast infiniteness of the universe.

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know your thoughts in a review!**


	3. A Spark

**Chapter 3 – A Spark**

The Order members sent to pick up Harry and Hermione arrived in a white van, and when they stepped out Harry grinned and said, "Hello, Lupin. Tonks."

"Wotcher, Harry," came Tonks's usual reply. "Hi, Hermione"

"Nice to see you, Harry and Hermione," said Lupin.

Tonks was the Order's disguise expert, being well-versed in the arts of applying make-up and dyeing hair. Lupin was very good with animals and had domesticated a few wolves to help track enemies. The two had also recently gotten together, despite a bit of an age gap.

Without a word, Harry grabbed the still-knocked-out prisoner by the feet and Lupin grabbed the head. The two women opened the van's back doors, and Harry and Lupin tossed the man in. Lupin and Tonks went in the front while Harry and Hermione hopped in the back with the prisoner, sitting side-by side on the bench running length-wise along the left side of the van.

Lupin and Tonks chatted quietly in the front, too quietly for Harry or Hermione to hear what they were saying, and Harry and Hermione rode in silence, both a little tired from the earlier excitement. After not too long, Harry felt a weight on his shoulder and turned his head to see Hermione dozing peacefully on it, her face relaxed and stress-free. Harry spent the rest of the ride admiring her beauty, from the soft curls of her hair to the graceful curve of her pale neck.

When they arrived Harry nudged Hermione softly and she slowly woke up, blinking and looking around, and groaned.

Harry smiled at her. "Good dream?"

Hermione sighed. "You don't even know."

Harry laughed and asked, "What was it about?"

A red flush began creeping up Hermione's neck to her face. "Well…er…I…"

The van doors flew open, and both Harry and Hermione jumped—they had forgotten that they weren't alone. "Will you two hurry up and quit lollygagging? It's cold out here and warm inside, so I want to get inside," finished Lupin tersely.

"Sorry," the two teenagers muttered in unison.

Hermione hopped out as Harry and Lupin picked up the limp prisoner and headed towards the Order's southern headquarters, which was a located in a run-down hospital in Brighton. At least, it looked run-down from the outside. The only hint that it was much more on the inside was the high-tech numbered keypad next to the door.

Tonks punched in the code and the door swung open, admitting the four Order members and the unconscious prisoner into a different world. Pristine white walls, chrome instruments, and flashing lights filled the rooms, the amount of technology astounding. They went to the basement of the building where the jail was located and tossed the prisoner in after removing his handcuffs. The man would be interrogated thoroughly and most likely disposed of despite what Harry told him earlier. Voldemort frequently busted his followers out of various correctional facilities, and the Order didn't need to give him his members back when they were already so outnumbered.

After locking the cell, the four headed back up to war room, and Harry and Hermione gasped as they saw who was sitting there. "D-dumbledore?" Harry stuttered.

Indeed it was the old man, his long silver hair and beard reflecting the artificial light emanating from the light bulbs above. The founder of the Order of the Phoenix, Albus Dumbledore was a legend.

"Indeed, it is I," said Dumbledore, a small smile playing on his lips. "Did you really think you two could go on a vacation without having me near you? You're too valuable to leave unattended."

"The prisoner we took said something similar," Harry piped up. "That's why Voldemort wants us dead."

"Yes, and that's why your vacation is over," said Dumbledore sternly, leaving no room for argument.

Hermione sighed. "I figured as much."

Dumbledore steepled his fingers under his chin and glanced at Lupin and Tonks, then said, "Could I please speak to these two alone?"

The two older Order members stepped out of the room and Dumbledore gestured for Harry and Hermione to sit across the table from him, and they did so in silence. They sat for a minute with Dumbledore appraising them, then he said, "What I am about to tell you two is strictly confidential. Only your friend, Ron Weasley, may know about this. You cannot tell anybody, or our resistance to Voldemort will be crushed like an insignificant bug."

"You don't trust Lupin and Tonks?" Harry interrupted.

Dumbledore sighed the sigh of a weary and beaten man. "Frankly, I don't know who to trust now but you two and Mister Weasley." At the look on Harry and Hermione's faces he continued. "Do you two wholeheartedly trust your friends?"

"Of course," they replied in unison.

"And how did Voldemort know where you two were?" Dumbledore asked them patiently.

The two teens glanced at each other and Hermione quietly said, "I see, sir."

"The only reason I know to trust you two is that you were both orphaned by Voldemort and have truly devoted yourselves to destroying him. You two have every reason to hate that man and never join him," said Dumbledore with a hint of fire in his voice.

The three sat on that for a bit before Hermione asked, "What were you going to tell us?"

Dumbledore glanced at them seriously, then said, "I know how to defeat Voldemort completely. I know how to end this secret war and eradicate the Death Eaters."

Harry and Hermione were on the edge of their seats. "How?"

"It all lies in supplies and the smaller gangs that they recruit from, the biggest of which is known as the Slytherins, which is headed by a man known as Lucius Malfoy," Dumbledore informed the two teenagers. "If you stop Voldemort's flow of supplies and members, you may find that he is more vulnerable to being wiped out."

"So…" said Hermione, obviously working out what needed to be done. "We just need to get rid of the smaller gangs that Voldemort relies on for the menial aspects of running a crime organization?"

"I think we'll find that much more easily said than done," said Harry. "That sounds like a tough job to me."

"Yes, it will be, considering the time frame in which you have to do it and the lack of information we have," said Dumbledore, now pacing around the room.

"Time frame?" inquired Hermione.

"In only ten months, according to my spies, Voldemort is planning to release a biological weapon on Britain," said Dumbledore gravely.

"Why in ten months?" asked Harry. "Why not now?"

"Because," said Dumbledore, "Voldemort and his followers all need to strengthen their immunity to the virus and they need ten months to do so."

Harry ran a hand through his unruly hair. "So, ten months to track down the branch gangs and wipe out them and the Death Eaters? Sounds like fun."

"Oh," said Dumbledore, "and once you start wiping out the gangs, he'll reinforce the remaining ones."

Hermione shifted in her seat a little. "Excuse me, sir, but you said 'you'. Surely you don't expect that only Harry and I will do this ourselves."

"Of course not," said Dumbledore. "It will be you two, Mister Weasley, Miss Weasley, Mister Longbottom, and Miss Lovegood."

"But sir, I thought you said to tell nobody but Ron," said Hermione.

"Yes, that is vital," said Dumbledore. "You must take care to speak of the mission only to Mister Weasley, and invent a reason that you are targeting the gangs, considering the fact that we would normally never assign such a dangerous mission to a group of teenagers."

"Alright, sir, you can count on us," said Harry.

"Yes sir, we won't let you down," said Hermione.

Dumbledore smiled from behind his silver whiskers. "I know I can. For now, you two will go to Hogwarts, and I will collect your friends and take them to the school as soon as possible so you can get started. Meanwhile, the rest of the Order will be fortifying the school in case of a possible attack."

"But nobody knows where the school is but the students," said Harry without thinking.

"Honestly, Harry," said Hermione, vexed. "One of our friends sold us out, and our only friends go to school with us."

"Precisely," said Dumbledore. "We must be prepared for the spy to give Voldemort the location of the school."

"We have a rough few months ahead of us," said Hermione.

"Don't we always," said Harry.

Harry knew it would be rough, just as Hermione said. But in the end, this chance was the perfect opportunity to bring about the end of Voldemort for good.

**A/N: Sorry, I know this chapter is short and late, but I am having an insane case of writer's block! And I plan to start updating at least two times a week, and I also plan to have another chapter up on Thursday to make up for this lousy filler.**

**Please Review, it means a lot to me!**


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